


Slip

by redscudery



Series: Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Bottom John, But just a little, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Punishment, Scarf Kink, Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest, Top Sherlock, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Saturday Night Fic Fest prompt: John accidentally spills beer on Sherlock's new white silk shirt that he's being forced to wear to a Mycroft thing so he has to repay Sherlock with kinda rough/possessive sex. (mild dubcon but john is totes into it, and if you wanna throw in like scarf-play bondage-y stuff that'd be awesome, too)</p>
<p>Warning: a little choke-y, a little dubcon-y, but it's all ultimately consensual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip

“Christ!” 

“JOHN!” 

“I know, I know, white silk shirt, worth my lifetime earnings thus far, etc etc.”

“My SHIRT.” 

“I’ll get some soda water, Sherlock, if I can flag a waiter. Not sure I can, though: I think Anthea hires them for looks rather than service ability.”

“No need. Now at least we can leave. Mycroft hardly wants to parade me around looking like this.”

“Not a single comment about how I’m a clumsy cretin who’s not worth the price of your shirt?”

“Oh, no, John. I don’t think we need to talk about it.”

_________________

“I’m sorry, Sherlock.” John is naked, legs spread, bent over the couch. There’s a scarf is wrapped around his neck, tight enough to restrain but not to strangle. Sherlock’s holding the ends, standing behind him; he’s not naked, though his beer-stained shirt is unbuttoned and his trousers are open. 

“Oh, I know. But you’ll be more sorry, won’t you?” Sherlock jerks the scarf a bit, at the same time running his hand down between John’s cheeks, too lightly. John pushes back towards him, but Sherlock isn’t about to let him have too much. He’s played with John for half an hour now, and he’s ready for the main event.

The bottle of lube is in the fridge, and Sherlock puts down the scarf and strolls over to get it. He takes his time on the way back, enjoying the view of John spread out before him, shivering a bit in anticipation.

Behind John once again, scarf in hand, Sherlock opens the bottle and drizzles the cold, cold lube down John’s crack. John jumps at the sensation, but he sighs with pleasure as Sherlock pushes in, none too gently. 

“You like this, don’t you? You like it when I take you hard, push you, show you that I want you.” John’s increasingly intense noises are the answer he’s listening for, and Sherlock moves faster, tugging a little harder on the scarf. When John tenses, Sherlock slows, pulling out until just the head of his cock is inside him; he lets go of the scarf and reaches to stroke John’s cock; it’s hard and dripping and John thrusts forward into his hand. 

“You don’t know which way to go now, do you? You want to push back on my cock, but forward into my hand. What are you going to do?”

“Please, Sherlock!”

“Are you sorry?”

“You know I am. Christ, Sherlock!”

Sherlock pushes his cock back in again, slowly, so slowly, and tightens the scarf. John cries out, body tense again, begging Sherlock wordlessly- there is, after all, a limit to how much the doctor will say-until Sherlock takes pity on him. He grabs John’s hips and begins to fuck him with unrelenting precision, each thrust aimed directly at John’s prostate. Harsh breathing fills the room, and Sherlock’s fingers are whiter than ever on John’s darker body. A low groan escapes Sherlock’s mouth, and the feeling of him convulsing brings John to his climax as well, body contracting as his semen stripes the couch below him.


End file.
